


some call her a gift

by Domoz



Category: Critical Hit (Podcast)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-02-23 20:43:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domoz/pseuds/Domoz
Summary: Ket arrives on Orem's doorstep in the night and leaves behind a child. Orem- frustrated with his current lot and life, and lonely, decides to keep her.Inadvertently, he winds up keeping Ket as well.





	1. Chapter 1

A storm was brewing over hills of Diamond Throne this dark evening. Orem stood out on his balcony, sipping an herbal tea as he watched the clouds gather. This weather wasn’t entirely abnormal for the area but it was wildly out of season, and, though faint, he could sense a tinge of magic in the air. Someone had conjured this storm, though for what reason, Orem could not guess.  
  


A cold gust of wind blew his robes and mussed up his hair, and Orem took a step back inside with a scornful sniff. It wasn’t for him to worry about unless the storm grew strong enough to cause damage.  
  


He sat down at  his dining room table and idly lit a candle, watching the rain from inside.

 

After their quest through the southern continent, they had been taken back to the astral sea, and from there — eventually — dropped off back on prime material plane. Things had gone back to normal... Relatively. Randus and Sekhar had gone back to their positions as Diamond Throne nobility, and Ket and Sparkle had gone together back to Coldport to do… Well, whatever nefarious things the two of them liked getting up to. He tried not to think about it very often.

 

Orem himself had returned to trying to find a way to reconnect the material world to the feywild, having searched the royal libraries of Diamond Throne for a while, then the esoteric collection of books Randus and his family had managed to collect in their hold. Months of study and experimentation had been fruitless and in his frustration Orem had finally asked if there was anywhere he could stay that was more… _Rural_ , in hopes that he could use it to reconnect his own slipping connection to the feywild.  
  


So that was how he had ended up here, alone, in a sparsely furnished manor house that was gravely in need of more renovation. The place had been abandoned after the lunar event and was only now beginning to look presentable after several months of Orem staying here and fixing it up.  
  


The closest city was, of all places, _Tuberville_ , and in the rare occasions that Orem did need to go in to town to try and find supplies, he avoided that and went several miles further to the small mining town and trading post that was called _Copper Valley._ He tried to avoid both places whenever possible.  
  


Orem took another sip of his quickly cooling tea. He supposed that the place having some trade connections wasn’t a terrible thing. It allowed him to find some things that he was sure would be otherwise impossible to procure out in these backwoods. But it was not a _big_ trading post, and so to get many of the supplies he needed he had to wait, as he was doing right now.  
  


Waiting, waiting, ceaselessly _waiting_. It felt like that was all he ever did these days. Oh, he tried to keep himself busy, ever fixing up the house and exploring the nearby lands for evidence of old trods — of which there were many — and all of them remained closed to him.  
  


He had even tried to take up gardening, using some of the old supplies that had been left behind. He was, somewhat ironically, bad at it. The plants of the material plane did not take well to his constant fussing and adjustments. There was a boom of thunder outside and Orem sighed. Should he do something for his plants? It would be a shame if the storm killed the flowers that he had just gotten to sprout…  
  


He was jolted from his thoughts by a shadow outside his window — something had passed by at great speed, and though he didn't get a good look at what it was, something about the way it was moving made him uneasy. It looked as though it was stopping.  
  


He was already at the door before there was a knock at it, and as he reached to open the door with one hand, the other reached for the sword he kept nearby.

The person on the other side was tall, wearing a hooded cloak, and carrying a bundle of cloth in their arms. Behind them was a large horse, though it was standing unnaturally still, in such as way as to imply it was some sort of construct and not a real horse at all.  
  


The person was looking behind them, as though trying to see if they had any pursuers, and Orem couldn’t quite make out the face. Rather than press the situation, Orem took a moment to take a closer look at who he was dealing with. They were already soaked through with the rain, despite the cloak, and the stranger was hunched over and half covered in mud. They were cradling the bundle like it was something very important and breakable. Then they turned and Orem saw the stranger’s face.  
  


“Ket?!”  
  


Astounding and unexpected as it was, the man in front of him with his hair stuck to his face from the rain and with a noticeable bruise blooming under one eye was one Ket H’zard.  
  


“Orem.” Ket let out a breath as he said the name. “Good. I thought you had moved out here.”  
  


“What are you doing here?”  
  


Orem tried to sound incredulous, but he really felt more excited. Finally, something was _happening_.  
  


“I-” Ket’s eyes flicked to the side at another gust of wind. “That’s a long story. I can’t stay. I just…”  
  


He hesitated for just a moment before holding out the bundle he was carrying.

“Can you take care of her? Just for tonight?”

 

Orem was shocked, to say the least, but tentatively reached out to take what was apparently a child.  
  


“Ket, what is going on?”  
  


There was a flash of thunder and a boom of lightning, and Ket took a step back.  
  


“I’m being followed is what’s going on. I can’t stay too long. Just… Dn’t let anyone take her, alright? I’ll be back in the morning.”  
  


“...Alright?”

 

Orem suspected Ket didn’t hear his response as he walked back to his strange, horse-adjacent magical construct.  
  


Before he climbed onto his mount, Ket paused and turned to look back at Orem.  
  


“I’ll be back for her in the morning!”  
  


And then he climbed onto the horse and galloped away, quickly becoming impossible to see through the darkness and rain.

 

Orem sighed and stepped inside, closing the door and locking it behind him.  
  


Now that he was out of the rain, he looked down at the bundle in his arms. He carefully extracted the child from the damp blankets and held her out at arms length.  
  


She was a tiefling, though her horns were just tiny nubs, and her tail hung like a limp noodle. She was less than year old by his best guess, and she looked about as happy about the whole situation as Orem felt.  
  


He had questions. _Many_ questions.  But since Ket was the one who has pushed all this upon him, he suspected he wouldn't be getting answers anytime soon.  
  


The baby, for her part, had considered Orem long enough to know that she didn’t like him, or else was hungry or tired or any other number of problems that caused a baby to cry. He set her down on his dining room table with a sigh.  
  


He was good with children, in theory, but thus far in his life that theory had only extended to entertaining children that other people took care of. As the baby on his table whined and fussed, he realized he was a bit out of his comfort zone.  
  


Babies ate mashed up up vegetables, at least from what he had heard. Only this baby had sharp little needle teeth, so didn’t that imply meat? Or was it still milk at this age?  
  


Ket had so kindly left him nothing to work with, so with a sigh and the grating sound of crying in the back of his mind, Orem busied himself getting the components together to perform a sending ritual. Who did he know that would know the most about tiefling babies?  
  


The first person who came to mind was Trelle, but Orem quickly dismissed the idea. She may well have been able to answer his question, but he suspected that she wasn’t close enough for the ritual to reach her — and even if she was, he suspected that he would have to waste several rituals worth of components explaining to her why he had a child.  
  


But thinking of Trelle led him thinking to the people she knew, and someone else came to mind. _True_ , he hadn’t spoken to Stagzi in many years, but he did seem to have some knowledge on childcare and he _was_ a tiefling. It was worth a shot, at least.

 

The components he had gathered sparked and flared away in a flash of green and Orem knew the ritual had been completed. He opened his mouth and closed it again trying to figure out how best to word what he wanted to say.

There really was no room to put it delicately, and no room for explanation in the twenty five words the ritual allowed. Straightforward it was, then.  
  


He cleared his throat,

“Stagzi, this is Orem. I was hoping you could tell me what sort of food to feed a tiefling infant. About a year old. Thanks.”  
  


It was only a few moments before he got a confused-sounding reply from Stagzi in that characteristic accent of his.  
  


“Just feed it whatever you would feed a normal child.” Orem could hear Stagzi _tsk_ at him, “And… Congratulations?”  
  


Orem sighed at his tone, but at least he had his question answered. Making some of his vegetables mushy enough for a baby to eat was thankfully easy enough, and she was so hungry as to not reject it when he tried to feed it to her. In very short order, she had eaten a few tablespoons of carrot and decided that perhaps she did like Orem after all, because as soon as he had picked her up she curled up to rest her head on his shoulder.  
  


Trying not to jostle her too badly, he made his way to the one bed he had in his house. The room was unused by him entirely, and everything was covered in a fine layer of dust that he tried not to disturb too much as he walked through. He set the child down in the middle of the bed and frowned.  
  


This bed had no railing. It would be far too easy for her to roll off or otherwise get tangled in the blankets. There was nothing for it then — he sat himself on the edge of the bed, leaning against the headboard. He could meditate and watch her at the same time.

 

This part, at least, should be simple.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The night was not simple. The baby seemed unable to sleep soundly through the night, and Orem awkwardly holding her at an arms distance and bouncing her up and down seemed to agitate more than help. In the few hours of peace that he had, he found that he was so troubled with questions that it was difficult to meditate.

 

Ket had implied that someone would be after the child, and so Orem found himself on edge. He wished Ket had given himanything to work with. Was this his child? Did he steal her? Win her in a bet somehow? Did she have a name? Why in all the five continents was he _here,_ of all places?  
  


Perhaps, in some other situation, he could have written off Ket being in trouble as the usual, but now he had brought a child — and himself — into it, and the way he had been tense told him that this wasn’t small trouble.  
  


He spent a few moments gazing out the window, where the magic-driven storm had slackened off into something more natural, and idly wondered if that had anything to do with this whole situation as well.

 

He took a deep breath and looked back down to the baby who was sleeping fitfully in front of him. He wasn’t certain that he trusted Ket to be back in the morning. In the back of his head, he had doubts that Ket was going to return at all, that he had pressed this child onto him with no intention of returning.  
  


(Or worse, that the thing he was running from caught him and he was unable to return at all.)  
  


Taking a measured breath, Orem brought his hands into his lap. When and if Ket came was when he would begin to worry about it.

* * *

 

Ket was not there in the morning, and Orem found himself pacing from window to window, holding the baby against his shoulder. By noon he had already accepted that he wasn’t coming — at least not today. With a sigh, he held the child out at arms length again.

 

“I suppose we’ll have to figure out some better sleeping arrangements for you, hm?”  
  


She babbled and reached out towards him. He found himself smiling and, after a moment of consideration, stuck out the end of his tongue at her and was rewarded with the clapping and giggling that was only really charming coming from a baby.  
  


He wandered his way up to the second floor of the house, the rooms of which he had filled with some of the old furniture that the previous residents had left behind. He idly picked over what was there — several more beds, an armoire and a wardrobe that he had decided were too tacky to use — and there, just as he had thought — the battered but still functional framework of a crib. He summoned a few unseen servants with a flourish of his hand and in short order the crib was moved downstairs and outside to be dusted off.  
  


As Orem stepped out into the cool spring air, he paused. Something out here smelled horrible. He  squeezed his eyes shut and holding the baby as far away from himself as possible when it occurred to him just what had happened.

 

This was the part that he had known was coming and had been dreading. Yes, he had done dirtier in his life, but he didn’t particularly relish the thought of getting close to even this.

Instead he laid the child down on the steps of the veranda and guided his unseen servant over. She seemed agitated as the invisible force started cleaning her, kicking her legs and crying. Orem stood back, uncertain of what he should do to ease the situation.  
  


A simple prestidigitation spell got everything cleaned up and the unseen servant returned to its dusting. The baby continued screaming and Orem grimaced — this was the part of babysitting that he knew he wasn’t prepared for.  
  


He picked her back up and supported her on a shoulder, earning two tiny fists wrinkling his robe and a wiping a load of tears and snot down the front. With a sigh, he tried the only thing he had seen done in this situation, bouncing the child up and down and patting her on the back.  
  


It was surprisingly more effective than Orem expected, and in a few minutes the baby had calmed down and gone from a crying mess to giggling and grabbing at his hair. Orem sighed and looked down at her, idly wondering again why Ket had brought her here.

 

Hopefully he would come back and Orem would be able to press some answers out of him, but he was already late and Orem didn’t have high hopes. He wondered if Ket had a plan for her at all, or if he had just dumped her off to the most convenient option.

But, then again, he had seemed so agitated and so _earnest_ the night before that Orem couldn’t quite believe that to be true just yet.  
  


He sat down on the steps, watching an unseen force beat dust out of a mattress. He could do a sending ritual, but if Ket had gone and done something dangerous, then he wasn’t sure how useful it would be. It could wait, he supposed.  
  


After the crib was suitably clean, he had the unseen servants bring it back inside. The room he had spent the night in before didn’t have the space for both a bed and a cradle, and his own room would have to be rearranged to fit it.  
  


He had them place it in the living room. It looked terrible but in theory it wouldn’t be there for very long. As they set the crib down, Orem discorporated the servants, leaving behind a trail of sparkling dust that quickly faded away into nothing. With a blink, he looked down at the baby he was still carrying in his arms. She was staring at the whorls in the air attentively, reaching one hand out to grab the light as it faded away. Orem couldn’t help but chuckle at that, and before he had realized it, the sun had set and he had spent an afternoon he had planned to spend doing research making bubbles to amuse a child instead. She had fallen asleep before he realized, and with a gentle smile he set her in the cradle. He started to make his way up to his own room before pausing and looking back at her.  
  


He suffered the same dilemma from the night before. He didn’t know enough about children her age to know if it was okay to leave her there, and he still didn’t know if people were after her, or just Ket. He could meditate on the couch, though it wouldn't be comfortable.  
  


The baby slept relatively peacefully, and so Orem found his way to meditation easily — though he kept his sword leaning nearby just in case.  
  


Around midnight, a quiet knock on the door jolted him to awareness. In a moment, he was crouched and ready, sword in hand. He slowly stood up and approached the door, wishing it had some sort of peephole, or at least a chain. He hid the hand holding the blade behind the door as he reached over and pulled the door open to a crack.  
  


On the other side was no nefarious kidnapper, but Ket, looking somehow even more worse for wear than he had the night before.

 

He was leaning heavily on the door frame and had to blink a few times before he even registered that Orem had opened the door.  
  


“Hello, Ket.”  
  


“Hey,” he started, voice hoarse. “Sorry I’m late. I can take her back, now.”  
  


Orem looked him over, this time conjuring a light to get a better look at him. He was practically covered in mud, the cloak he was wearing looked torn to shreds, and underneath the familiar jacket, his shirt was stained the dark brownish-red that could only be blood — to say nothing of the few bruises that were visible. He would almost certainly be swaying on his feet if he wasn’t leaning on the doorjamb.  
  


Orem’s eyebrows knitted together and he shook his head at the sorry sight before him.

“Is it urgent? Or would you like to come inside and clean yourself off a bit?”  
  


Ket looked down at himself as though he had just realized the state he was in for the first time.

“That… would be nice.”

 

Orem sighed and leaned the sword against the wall before stepping outside with him, putting a hand on either shoulder and pushing him back out into the yard.

Ket’s reflexes were obviously slowed and he stumbled backwards, sucking in a sharp breath as he put weight on his right food and nearly fell to the ground were it not for the railing on the veranda to hold him up.  
  


Orem took note of that, too. Ket had the bad habit of taking hits that would incapacitate someone for weeks and brushing them off as though they were no more than a papercut. Either he was so tired that he wasn’t able to keep up the facade, or else he was very injured indeed.  
  


As he cast the spells to remove the worst of the mud, he asked, “When was the last time you slept?”  
  


Ket blinked. “When was the last time I was here?”  
  


That already didn’t bode well. “Yesterday?”  
  


“Then ah… Two days before that?”  
  


Ket seemed uncertain of the time himself; Orem would have rolled his eyes if he could.

“Well, most of your clothes are probably ruined, but unfortunately the coat is enchanted, so it’s salvageable.”  
  


Ket stared at him blankly, clearly not registering a word Orem had said.

Sighing again, Orem waved a hand for Ket to come inside, which he did, albeit painfully slowly as he compensated for his limp on the walls. As soon as he caught sight of the couch where Orem had been meditating minutes earlier, he collapsed onto it.  
  


Realizing he didn’t have long before Ket simply fell asleep like that, Orem bustled off to the kitchen. He hadn’t had the time to prepare, so Ket got a dinner of bread, cheese, and water, but he scarfed it down like he was starving — and probably was. While he ate, Orem gathered what sparse first aid supplies he had and dropped them on the coffee table in front of Ket.  
  


At Orem’s command to take off his jacket, Ket gave him a very confused look before Orem held up a ball of gauze — and even then, in his sleep deprived state, it took him a few moments before realizing that Orem intended to help him.  
  


The shirt and vest Ket wore really were quite ruined and stuck to his skin from all the dried blood. Orem had to cut them away to get a good look at anything, but Ket hardly protested, if he even realized what was going on at all.  
  


Underneath, it looked even worse. The cuts and stabs he was riddled with had clearly been ignored by Ket since he had gotten them, and though most of them were shallow enough to have already scabbed over, some of them were still raw, to say nothing of the large continuous bruise that had formed over most of his chest.  
  


Ket blinked at Orem as he began to clean off the worst of the blood as though it was a surprise.

“‘S’ not that bad. Just need to sleep.”  
  


“Have you seen yourself!?” Orem snapped, shoving one of the few healing potions he had found still sitting in the bottom of his bag of holding into Ket’s hand’s to drink, which he did without any protest.

 

“Figured it was bad, so I’ve kinda been avoiding it. Can’t feel anything though.”

“That’s because you haven't slept in three days!”

Ket gave a very half hearted shrug in return and then winced, as though now that he had finally gotten a moment to rest, the pain had begun to set in.

There was only so much Orem could do for it himself with the limited supplies that he had, but Ket dutifully sat very still as he was bandaged, probably drifting in and out of awareness as Orem worked.  
  


“Is she yours?” It came out quietly, a question Orem had been waiting to ask since the night before. It wasn’t the right time to start questioning Ket — he knew that to get any sensible answers, he ought to let Ket rest first— but this one troubled him too much.  
  


It clearly wasn’t a simple answer, as Ket took a while to consider it.

“Not exactly,” he settled on. “Though I guess she is, now.”  
  


That had been exactly the kind of answer Orem had expected and he shook his head as he took a step back. He would have time to nag Ket about that later, but for now...  
  


“Well then, assuming you don’t still have anyone after you, you should go to sleep.”  
  


“Hmn.” Ket agreed.

By the time he had dug a blanket out of the closet, Ket had collapsed back onto the couch and fallen asleep. Orem haphazardly tossed the blanket over him and looked him over one last time before heading to his own meditation.  
  


He was a wreck, and that was nothing new for Ket, but he had gone and gotten Orem and this child involved, and it seemed that for once he wasn’t going to be able to take care of it himself.  
  


He paused to look back at Ket and the child as he started up the stairs. They would be fine, for tonight — and Ket had stolen his spot either way.

 

He shook his head and turned to walk up to his room, already thinking of what he would need to gather to do another sending ritual. He didn’t have the supplies to deal with Ket’s many wounds, but he knew who would, and Randus would no doubt leap at any excuse to get out of his court.  
  


And wouldn’t it be nice to have not one, but _two_ people over, for the first time in months?  
  


He would have to go shopping so as to make dinner tomorrow.

  
  


 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classic "6 months to write a chapter" schtick, am I right? Nothing like being blatantly called out and embarassed to get you to decide that you may as well just finish the thing.

The rest of the night thankfully went by without further incident, though Orem was still troubled by the idea of someone breaking into his house, looking for  Ket and the child he had brought. It took a while before he was able to slip into meditation peacefully.

As the sun rose Orem quietly went downstairs to make himself breakfast. Ket had clearly not moved, and the morning sun shining over him really only served to better highlight how badly he had been hurt- most of his bruises were still dark and blotchy and hard to discern from the blood and grime that Orem hadn’t yet managed to clean off. Orem shook his head and sighed but knew it was probably best to leave him to rest.

The child, on the other hand, was not such a heavy sleeper, and at the sound of Orem’s tea kettle whistling had started to stir. He wound up cradling her in one arm as he enjoyed his normal morning breakfast- tea and some seasonal fruit- and talking. It was mostly for himself but it was nice to imagine someone was listening for once.

“We’ll have to leave shortly if I want to be back in time to finish cooking by the time Randus gets here,” he mused, the child blinking up at him intently. He has messaged Randus in the night and unsurprisingly the artificer had been awake and more than eager to come visit post-haste. 

“Ket probably won’t be awake for some time yet, and I doubt he’s in any shape to make the journey anyways.” Orem  _ tsked _ loudly as if it would somehow be enough to get a reaction from Ket, who remained resolutely asleep in the other room. “So I suppose  _ you’re _ coming with me.”

He left a note behind telling Ket where he had gone and started down the road, child held in a makeshift sling over this shoulder.

It was a cool fall morning and Orem couldn’t help but grumble to himself as the wind tousled his hair. He liked to go to Copper Valley looking as well put together as he could because he felt that it kept the locals from trying to become too friendly with him.  _ Hopefully  _ the fact that he had kept his distance from them until now would keep them from asking too many questions about the year-old tiefling he had brought with him this time.

As Orem walked on, he was focused more on his own thoughts than the surrounding countryside. He had a shopping list of course- he needed to replenish his first aid supplies after using everything he had on ket. He needed to check on the supplies he had ordered weeks ago- magical components, several crystals he had been guaranteed came from the feywild. At least he had paid for them as though they were; the important thing was that they helped him ascertain what was keeping him  _ out _ . Then there was a bookstore in town, which probably should have gotten something new in stock by now and was worth taking a look at, and to top it off he still hadn’t decided what he was going to make for dinner. Randus almost certainly got his fill of fancy food these days, and as far as he could tell Ket hadn’t been eating much of anything as of late.

The child, for her part, had been staring with wide eyes at the passing landscape. Orem wasn’t overly familiar with children her age but he had at least a vague impression that they were supposed to be fussy and, well…  _ noisy _ .  It was nice that this one wasn’t but he was a bit concerned, but then he still hadn’t a clue about the situation she was coming from. 

Between planning his day and worrying about every detail about this situation that crossed his mind, Orem hardly registered the fact that he had entered Copper Valley until a stench hit his nose. The horses of the material plane, as fond as he was of them, were so much more  _ foul  _ than their faywild counterparts, in odor if not in personality. The baby started to upset as well, which Orem supposed was probably a good sign.

He started about his business, first picking up more bandages and gauze and potions and then his own personal order of residium and crystals, managing to get through all of it without haggling or having any other unwanted conversation. He was quite sure he was being up-charged, but to him the convenience of not having to explain himself was worth the price. At that the child started to whine and wave her hands around, grabbing at Orem’s hair, and he recalled that children were supposed to eat more often than he did. He settled on an early lunch at a place too rustic to be called a cafe, but which still served a decent herbed chicken and mashed potato, which was decent enough to sate them both.

Throughout the entire meal, Orem kept his eyes on nothing in particular. Yes, he could see the various townsfolk and traders passing by, always giving him a curious glance and a tilt of the head, but he made it a point never to acknowledge them. He was long past caring what they thought of how very strange he must seem to them, and cared even less as with every trip to town they proved too timid to approach him. 

(During one of his infrequent visits Randus had advised that it could get lonely out here, and that it wouldn’t hurt to make some friends, to which Orem had scoffed that he was too busy for that, and if he got lonely he would simply adopt a cat. He had been heavily considering the cat option in the past month or two).

There was of course an exception to every rule, and Orem hesitated outside of his next stop on account of it. The owner of the bookstore was not at all afraid to talk to him and reminded him of Ket in all the worst ways, even down to her apparent elven heritage. She would be nothing less than enthused to see him walk in a baby and he would escape with, at minimum, some sarcastic ribbing and a bruised ego. With a sigh he reminded himself that he didn’t care at all what the people of Copper Valley thought of him and pushed the door open.

It was dark inside, the only light filtering through dirty windows and motes of dust. The proprietor of the store hadn’t even looked up at his entrance, apparently too engrossed in a book to pay him much mind. He walked up to the counter and waited anyways; perhaps if she was embarrassed at making him wait he could avoid answering too many questions.

The woman herself was indeed some variation of half-elf, and though Orem couldn’t guess her age she was starting to wrinkle and grey just a bit which probably made her older than him. Several minutes went by of her leafing through pages, Orem waiting as patiently as he could. When it was about to become too much and he moved to clear his throat she spoke first, still not looking up from her book.

“Can I help you?”

Orem felt a tinge of heat crawl onto his cheeks- her tone implied that she knew exactly how long he had been standing there. He kept his voice cool. 

“I just wanted to see if you had gotten anything new in.”

She let the silence linger just long enough to be awkward and Orem couldn’t help but wonder if she treated all of her customers like this, or just him.

“Yeah, we have.” She pointed a finger down at the book she was reading, still without looking up. “I ordered this one on your recommendation. It’s pretty good.”

Orem looked down and scanned a few lines of upside down text- it seemed the book was in elven and after a moment the names clicked in his head. She was reading a book of poetry, one that he recognized from his earlier school days. He couldn’t help but bristle a bit- he had never  _ recommended _ the book, simply stated that he had read it and she had taken that to the extreme, probably specifically to antagonize him.

“I’ve already read that one, and it seems that you’re busy with it anyways.”

“I didn’t say this one was for sale.”

She finally looked up, fixing Orem with a deadpan gaze with only the slightest hint of a smirk.  _ Ugh _ \- entirely too much like Ket.

She let the stare go on again, just long enough to start to get uncomfortable before finally breaking it and looking away, sliding off of her stool to bend down and rifle through some boxes of still unsorted books behind the counter.

“I’ve only managed to find one thing that might pique your interest this time and it’s uh- apparently sort of rare, so be careful with it.”

She slid a book onto the counter. It was small enough to fit in one hand, but quite thick and orem picked it up questioningly. The black leather cover had no indication of title but printed neatly on the first page inside were the words  _ The Autobiography of Tun’Rex Tail Book 5: Travels through the Faywild and Dark, _ and in smaller text beneath, _ Translated from Draconic, with annotations. _

Turning the pages revealed that it was written sort of like a journal of some dragonborn adventurers journeys through the planes.

“That book is old and apparently the story in it is even older.” Now that she was looking at Orem again she didn’t break eye contact. “And it’s about someone getting into and out of the faywild which if I remember right is what you were after”

Orem closed the book and set it back down on the counter. 

“I’ll take it.”

“70 gold.”

Orem couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. She had said it was rare, but this book looked like it had been printed, not handwritten, and it wasn’t in the best of conditions.

“It seems more like a book worth 40,” he tried.

“It  _ seems _ like a book worth 65, and you telling me why you’re carrying a baby around,” she shot back.

“50, and I don’t tell you anything about my personal business.”

“65 and you don’t have to tell me a thing.” she said sweetly, “and I’ll even throw in a bonus”

That seemed as though it was as good a deal as he was going to get, so with a sigh he started reaching for his coin pouch.

She bustled off away from the counter and behind one of the precariously stacked bookshelves as Orem counted his gold. He didn't  _ really _ need to save his money, adventuring had netted him enough to live for even his long eladrin lifespan quite comfortably, but it was the principle of the thing, and the fact that she clearly knew he was too rich for his own good that bothered him.

She slid the two books over the counter to him in same motion as she moved coin towards herself. The book on top was a little worn and torn.

“ _ The Farmer Woman's Guide to Family and Seasons: An Almanac”,  _ he read the title out loud more for his own benefit. “I don't think that this is-”

She- it occurred to him now that Orem had never bothered to learn her name- already had her back to him, legs propped up on a low shelf behind the counter as she turned another page in her book.

“It’s got child care advice! You seem like you might need it.”

Orem opened his mouth but mechanically shut it again. There was any number of excuses he could defend himself with-  _ she's not mine, I’m taking care of her for someone else, and besides I’m more than capable on my own- _ but he was already tired of the conversation, and instead took the books without a word.

Now much grumpier, all he had left to do was to gather groceries for dinner. He  _ had _ wanted to do something a little over the top, like a souffle, but had already discarded the idea in favor of something simpler. A nice salad, perhaps, and the herbed chicken he had for lunch seemed simple enough to replicate. 

The woman who ran his usual produce stand was much easier to deal with. She didn’t like to haggle or really talk at all. She was an older human, homely, and she seemed to prefer to communicate exclusively in pointing which suited Orem perfectly fine for the moment. In short order she handed him a bag of produce and a mostly plucked chicken. He could still feel her eyes on him as he walked away.

Still, despite the awkwardness of the day, he had managed to escape without being accosted by any other townsfolk, and that was  _ despite _ the child. It was a far cry from his first few visits to town where he had been approached by what seemed like everyone in the village, asking him where he came from and who he was. He had blown them off enough times now that they didn’t even try. It was in a way both flattering and very sad, but Orem knew that he had done it to himself and so chose to maintain a sort of pride in it.

The child seemed to have grown tired, and after having to pause for a few minutes on his walk back to adjust her, napped soundly. 

Arriving home, he cast a glance over at Ket, who still hadn’t moved much except to tangle himself up in the blanket. Orem began unpacking everything with a sigh, first putting the baby back into its crib and then the books he had gotten on the coffee table on which was dangerously close to Ket’s feet. He couldn’t help but squint again at the almanac he that had been foisted on him again today. He didn’t appreciate the sentiment, but it probably did have at least some information he didn’t know. And he could always act as though he had gotten it to give to Ket- he must be at least as inexperienced as Orem was.

Not knowing when he had left, Randus could be here anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours from now, so Orem decided to go ahead and start cooking. Ket, at least, would appreciate the meal. However, as he started sorting through his groceries, Orem noticed something- reaching his hand into the bag of produce he felt something fuzzy and instantly recoiled. Without looking it  _ felt _ like some kind of mold but as he opened the bag, what he saw instead was the face of a soft stuffed rabbit.

He carefully reached in and pulled it out to examine. It was, fairly unmistakably the sort of toy meant for a baby, and quite unable to help himself Orem found a small smile creep its way onto his face.  Despite everything, people were still trying to help.

He placed that in the crib, too, before returning to his kitchen. He wasn’t the finest cook but living on his own out here he had started to learn, washing and chopping the vegetables and starting a fire in the oven for the chicken.

Perhaps it was the noise or the smell, but after several minutes Ket finally started to stir. Orem watched from the doorway Ket coming to awareness and then quickly freezing, looking around as he tried to figure out where he was. Then ever so slowly sitting up wincing at every movement and finally looking down at himself and the bandages that covered him.   

Another moment, and he noticed Orem, and immediately asked, “Where-?”

But his voice was hoarse and forced Ket to clear his throat as soon as he started to speak. Still, it was obvious enough what he was looking for.

“You’re in my current home, and you’ve been asleep for nearly fifteen hours.” He gestured to the crib that had been pushed to the far wall with one hand. “The little one you brought is over there.”

Ket, evidently still bleary from sleep and slightly panicked, made a move to stand but couldn’t even make it off the couch, arms shaking too badly to push him upwards. Suppressing a sigh, Orem stepped into the kitchen for a moment, pouring another glass of water and then sweeping back into the room to push it into Ket’s hands.

“Randus should be here shortly, so don’t hurt yourself again, alright?”

Ket took the glass and looked at it for a long moment and then up to Orem, clearly trying to orient himself. For the moment, all he could offer was a cracked, though genuine sounding, “Thanks.”

Orem stood over him for a moment longer, questions he had half-formed throughout the day forming in his mind. He began to speak but as though on cue a light but unmistakable knock sounded at the door. There was always something, wasn’t there?

“That must be him now,”  he said as he stepped away, though he still let his eyes linger on Ket, knowing that the other man couldn’t tell where exactly he was looking.

Somehow, now that he was awake, he looked even more vulnerable - Orem was used to Ket keeping himself guarded with a mix of stoicism and sarcasm, not this tired man who was now straining to look over his shoulders at the child still napping in her crib.

He forced himself to look away, now walking to the door and unlocking deadbolt- mentally preparing a spell  _ just in case _ . But there was no cause for alarm as he peeked through the crack in the door- it was Randus, fist still raised as though he wasn’t certain whether his first knock had been heard. 

“Oh! Orem!” Randus’s meek way of speaking made it sound as though he was surprised to see him here, as though Orem wasn’t the one who had invited him, “Hello!”

Orem swung the door open, as always a little unsure to how he should greet his old friend. Back home they would simply bow, but here Randus reached for Orems hand and shook it warmly in two of his own. A thin smile couldn’t help itself but to creep onto his face.

“You should come in. There’s someone you need to look at, after all.”

“Oh, right!” Randus slipped past Orem and scurried into the room, 

“Ket! It’s b-been awhile,” Randus exclaimed, voice faltering as he took in Ket’s current state. Without skipping a beat he began pulling out various bottles and vials as he moved to sit down next to him on the couch. With practiced hands he moved to clean up the work Orem had started, cleaning cuts and stitching things up that Orem simply hadn’t had the supplies for.

“What happened?” Randus asked, now all serious that he was acting as a medic.

“Yes, I would like to hear that as well,” Orem added with a slight frown.

Ket looked between them both tiredly, raising an arm unresistingly as Randus pulled at it to prod at something underneath.

Ket’s voice was still rough, but usable now that he had woken up.

“Well, to spare you the long story, I went looking for my siblings and I found a cult instead.”

Orems mind flashed to nearby Tuberville, and to Ket’s own involvement with Asmodeus. He asked “Cult to who?” at the same time that Randus asked “Where?”

Ket let out a long breath and closed his eyes as Randus wiped away more dirt and dried blood. “Pretty close where the border of the Freelands, Diamond Throne and the Seven Clans all meet. And I didn’t exactly ask.”

Orem’s frown deepened. That was  _ weeks _ away. Ket had been been on the run for that long? Still… “And I take it this is connected to the child?”

At mention of that Randus looked up, confused, following Orem’s pointing finger to the crib. Ket’s eyes remained closed as he nodded. 

“I couldn’t tell if they were going to sacrifice her or use her as a vessel to summon something into, but it was something along those lines. I didn’t really wait long enough to find out.” Finally opening them again he gave a sideways glance at Randus who had gone quiet, “Would you mind taking a look at her?”

Randus nodded, getting up and making his way around the mess of supplies scattered on the table to peer down into the crib. She had woken up and stared up at Randus with wide eyes, breaking out into a giggle as he gave a little wave.  Carefully maneuvering her to be supporting her with his real arm Randus turned her over as gently as he could manage. 

“She seems fine.” He assured softly. “Does she have a name?”

“Not that I know of.”

They both turned to look at Ket as they heard him take a sharp breath. He had tried to stand, and upon putting weight on his right leg had stumbled, luckily landing forwards onto the couch. In one movement Randus pushed the child into Orem’s arms to hold and advanced back around to Ket. 

“May I uh- take a look?”

Ket turned back around and flopped back onto the couch, wincing as Randus pulled the offending leg out to rest on Orem’s coffee table.

Orem held out the child once again, who stared at him with one hand half curled in her mouth. There wasn’t an obvious sign of anything cultish on her, but he lacked information to know if she should.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ket cringe as Randus pressed on something. 

“Well uh. I’m sorry to tell you but this is um- it’s really broken. You probably shouldn't be walking on it?” 

Orem set the child back down, pushing the stuffed rabbit up to her and nodding to himself as she reached out to grab at it and chew on its ear instead of her own fingers, then turning to listen in on the conversation.

“Don’t you have anything for it? I don’t think it’s wise to be off my feet for so long.”

“I mean I- I have something I’m working on to regrow bones but it’s uh- it’s not exactly ready to be used on anything that’s alive. Sorry.” Randus had returned to sounding more uncertain even as he was tying a splint onto Ket’s shin.

“Horrifying. I’ll pass.”

“And  _ I’ll _ get dinner.” Orem butted in to remind them that he was still here and they were in his house, “since it seems you won’t be able to walk to the kitchen.”

Food was served in the living room with Ket still sitting with one leg on the table. Orem couldn’t decide if the silence was awkward or companionable, though as he ate he couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose. He had managed to overcook the bird- Randus was too polite to mention and Ket evidently still so hungry that he didn’t care. At least the wine was decent.

After a while the sounds of silverware scraping on plates ended- if the quiet hadn’t been awkward before it certainly was now. Randus had been shifting uncomfortably since he has sat down and now in a desperate bid to break the silence Orem asked him, “Is everything alright?”

Randus sighed, looking ashamed, “The truth is I’m really not supposed to be gone right now. I didn’t even tell anyone I had left!”

Ket shook his head, still looking too tired to be amused but trying to poke fun anyways, “What are you trying to get out of now?”

“A party” Randus sighed, “I’m probably supposed to be at a tailor right now.”

“Is it political?”

Randus nodded, expression pained.

“Well you didn’t have to skip out on that for  _ us _ ,” Orem teased, though he felt a pang of disappointment. Of course if he got to see someone it would only be for a few hours.

“ _ Hey _ ,” Ket said in that annoyed yet lighthearted way, “I think it’s pretty good that he did.”

Randus smiled, still looking nervous. “I’m just sad I can’t stay longer. I think there’ll be trouble if I  _ actually _ don’t show up.”

Ket and Orem both shook their heads, marvelling at how, of all of them, Randus had been the one to fall into nobility. After a moment Orem stood and gestured to the door.

“Well don’t cause a political upset on my account. Just make sure to visit again, sometime.”

“O-Of course!” Randus jolted upwards, realizing only now all the things he had left scattered around the room and shoving them into various pockets and bags. Rushing to the door he paused, then turned and gave a shy wave.

“Thank you for dinner and uh… Good luck! Goodbye!”

And then he was out the door, gone for another few months at least.

Orem watched him out the window for a few moments longer as Randus searched around for his cloaked airship. Then he turned to Ket, arms crossed- only hesitating a little when he saw that Ket has been watching him in return.

“Well, what are you going to do?”

Ket blinked,  slowly looking down at his leg.

“I was planning on going on to Seven Clans to try and find my grandmother or sister.”

“And you’re still planning to do that?”

“... I guess?”

Orem shook his head at that. Ket seemingly still didn't want to admit to himself how in over his head he was with this child. Suddenly a bright idea flashed into his mind.

“I'm not going to let you leave with a child  _ and _ a broken leg. You're going to have to pick one.”

Ket furrowed his eyebrows as he considered the suggestion.

“Are you… asking me to stay?”

Orem straightened his shoulders. 

“I simply don't want to be responsible for whatever stupidity you'd get up to if you left injured. I'm just giving you the option. Until you're healed, of course.”

“Of course.” 

Ket seemed a little taken aback by this development. Orem was already beginning to wonder if he should have extended the offer but something about the idea of letting an injured man take a baby and wander off into the wilderness rankled him, even if that man was Ket.

Ket considered it for a little longer before looking up at him.

“Well, she's my responsibility and I'm not going to leave her, so I guess I'm staying here."

“Perfect,” Orem said with a nod, the fact that he had just agreed to have two roommates for upwards of two months slowly dawning on him. “Then let's get you up to the guest room.”

**Author's Note:**

> Snoot (who has now listened to some of Critical Hit) beta'd this.


End file.
